Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Cheater Slicks to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
James White and The Blacks,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
Godley & Creme,
Dead Boys,
The Slackers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
Rekid,
Bronski Beat,
Gang of Four,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swans,
Cymande,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Faust,
Organ,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
Tres Demented,
Man Parrish,
Trumans Water,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
Dawn Penn,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marvin Gaye,
The Slits,
Easy Going,
The Smoke,
Bluetip,
Archie Shepp,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
These Immortal Souls,
OOIOO,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
Newcleus,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Max Romeo,
Supertramp,
Donald Byrd,
Rotary Connection,
The Vogues,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tubeway Army,
Curtis Mayfield,
The American Breed,
The Pop Group,
Susan Cadogan,
Technova,
Youth Brigade,
LL Cool J,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.